


Cold

by IcamaneHatake



Series: Almost Easy [1]
Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe - High School, F/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-01
Updated: 2012-04-01
Packaged: 2017-11-02 21:44:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/373656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IcamaneHatake/pseuds/IcamaneHatake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Anette's world come crashing down, Mikey seems to be the only person who can try and make it right again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cold

It was a bitter, biting late-afternoon in December. Winters were always miserable in New Jersey. Being outdoors was the last thing any sensible person wanted to be doing on a day like this.

But one girl didn’t seem to be bothered by the nearing sub-zero temperatures. She was sitting on a frozen swing at a playground outside a school, swinging back and forth slightly. She was dressed very nicely, but rather inappropriately. She wore a pale, icy blue, spaghetti-strap dress, white tights, and long white gloves. Her blue sandals just barely scraped the snow-covered ground as she swung lightly, and her long, white-blonde hair rested limply around her shoulders.

This girl’s name was Anette Baker, and right now, she was numb.

Not just numb on the outside, but on the inside as well. Her skin and limbs were numb from the cold, but she didn’t notice it. Her brain and heart were the true unfeeling, un-sensing ones. Her dark blue eyes were gazing out across the frozen, barren playground, but they weren’t really _seeing_ it. She knew her gloved hands were freezing to the swing’s chain, but she couldn’t really _feel_ it. Thoughts were drifting around in her head, but she didn’t really _think_ them. She was just _there_ … being. Just being there.

Then down the sidewalk cautiously walked a boy of Anette’s age. Although, since he was eighteen years of age, he really would be considered a young man rather than a boy. He was wearing all the proper clothing one should wear outside in winter, (hat, gloves, jacket, etc.) and his glasses were getting slightly foggy. He stepped off the icy sidewalk and onto the path that lead through the snow and to the swing set, walking more normally now that he was confident he wouldn’t slip and fall. He crossed to the swing set and sat down in the swing next to Anette. She didn’t give any indication that she had seen him, probably because she actually hadn’t.

"I knew I’d find you here when your mom said you went for a walk,” he finally said. “You always come here.”

“Hello, Mikey,” Anette said in her soft voice. She was still looking out over the snow.

“You really should have at least a coat. It’s about three degrees out. You know that, right Annie?”

Anette turned her head slowly to see him giving her a slightly scolding look.

“I’m not cold,” she stated simply.

“Because you’re so cold you can’t feel anything,” Mikey pointed out.

“Maybe.”

They sat in silence as Mikey figured out what he wanted to say next. He was still struggling to get used to her new passiveness. He finally settled for just getting straight to the point.

“Gee’s home from college, you know. For Christmas.”

The corners of her mouth twitched up just the slightest. “That’s good,” she said, again softly.

“He said he misses you.”

“Okay.”

Mikey was getting slightly frustrated by Anette’s lack of response. ‘ _She’s never really been right since the accident,_ ’ Mikey thought. ‘ _I don’t blame her, but God this is almost scary._ ’

“You should come see him, I think Mom’s making soup tonight if you want to stay over.”

“That sounds nice,” she agreed.

Mikey stood and held out his hand to her. She paused for a moment, looking at his gloved hand, then she allowed her delicate hand to slip into his. He pulled her up and they walked together out of the school yard and down the sidewalk. Mikey slipped off a glove and touched her frozen bare shoulders with the warm backs of his fingers. “Dammit Annie, you’re going to get frostbite or hypothermia or something. Here, take my jacket.”

“No, you keep it, I—”

“Stop arguing,” Mikey insisted, and he flung his leather coat over her shoulders. “I think you’re getting frostbite, your skin is starting to look blue.”

“Thanks Mikey,” Anette replied, ignoring his scolding and holding the warm jacket over her shoulders with her thin fingers.

They walked in silence until Mikey thought of something else to say. “Why do you go to that swing set, anyways?”

Anette didn’t look at him, but she watched ahead of her with that dead look in her eyes again. “My dad and I would always go for walks together. We would stop there and swing for a while most days,” she finally answered. To anyone else, that would have sounded like a simple answer. But Mikey knew her too well. He could hear the pain in her voice, the first emotion she had really shown since he had found her. The first emotion she had shown in a few weeks, actually.

“Oh, okay. I didn’t know.”

“It’s alright, that was before we had met.”

It was only a few blocks to the Way house. A couple cars passed by on the ice covered streets, but other than that, they didn’t see anyone. They crossed the street and stepped through the front door.

“Mom, Gee, Anette’s here!” Mikey called out as he shut the door and began kicking off his boots. Anette hung up Mikey’s coat and slipped off her own shoes.

“Dinner for four then?” Mrs. Way called out from somewhere else, probably the kitchen.

“Yeah,” Mikey replied as he and Anette walked into the dining room, which was adorned with various Christmas decorations. Gerard was sitting at the table, bent over a drawing. But when he looked up and saw Mikey with Anette trailing behind him, Gerard’s face broke into a grin.

“Look what Mikey found, it’s our little Annie!” He jumped up and pulled her into a tight hung. “You’re freezing!”

“I was outside,” she stated simply, hugging him back lightly.

“You crazy girl. How are you?” Gerard asked, letting her go and sitting back down. Mikey and Anette followed suit.

“Alright, I guess,” Anette replied, shrugging slightly.

Gerard frowned. “Mikey told me about your dad. I’m sorry.”

Anette smiled without emotion and shook her head. “It’s not your fault.”

“Anette, you should call your mother, are you going to stay the night?”

Mrs. Way had popped her head into the room from the kitchen. Her brown hair was hastily tied back and she had an ancient-looking apron on over her cloths.

“I guess if I can,” Anette said, standing to go use the phone.

“Always,” Mrs. Way said with a smile.

“Thank you, Mrs. Way.”

Anette picked up the wall phone and dialed her home number. Mikey focused on Anette’s soft voice instead of his brother’s rambling, which was probably about art.

“Hi Mom… no, I’m fine, I’m at the Way’s… yeah, Gerard’s home. Mrs. Way invited me over for the rest of the night, is that okay? …alright, thanks Mom. I love you. Bye.”

She came back. Mikey offered her a thumbs-up, and she returned it with a slight smile.

“Michael! Come help me set the table!”

Mikey rolled his eyes and went to the kitchen to help. His hand just barely brushed Anette’s still-cold gloved hand as he passed her. He shivered just the slightest.

He grabbed bowls and spoons, then followed his mom back out to the dining room.

“Soup’s up!” Mrs. Way said, and she began serving. Mikey sat next to Anette, across from Gerard. Mrs. Way set her own bowl down in front of her and sat down as well. “Well Anette, it’s good to see you again. How’s your mom holding up?”

Anette took a sip of soup broth before answering. “She’s better. I mean… it’ll take a while, and I don’t think any of us will be okay until we bury Dad, but that won’t be until the ground melts. But she’s better.”

Mrs. Way smiled in an understanding way. “Well, if you or her need anything, just have her give me a call. I’d be happy to help.”

Anette returned with a weak smile. “Thank you. We appreciate it.”

They ate in silence for a minute or two. Then, surprisingly, Anette spoke up.

“How’s college this year, Gerard?”

Gerard looked up and smiled, brushing a bit of his black hair out of his eyes.

“Great, actually. Sophomore classes are so much better than freshman ones, and I’ve got a great art professor.”

“That’s great.”

-

After dinner, Gerard ran off to shower.

“I’ll help you clean up, Mrs. Way,” Anette offered.

“Nonsense, you kids go have fun. Michael will help you find somewhere to sleep,” Mrs. Way said with a smile.

“Yeah, I will,” assured Mikey. When his mom left, he took Anette’s elbow lightly. “Come on, I need to talk to you,” he said in a lower tone, and he lead her off to his room.

It was how it usually was; messy, but maneuverable. Mikey shut the door behind him, but as he opened his mouth to talk, Anette help up a finger. “Listen,” she whispered.

Mikey stopped and listened. At first all he could hear was the shower running, but then he heard Gerard singing, “ _Two! Minutes! To miiiidniiiight!_ ”

Anette smiled slightly and Mikey shook his head. “Yeah, but he’s not gonna be a musician anymore.”

Anette frowned now. “What happened?”

“He got kicked out of the last band he was in, so he decided to focus on art.”

“Oh,” Anette said, frowning a slight bit deeper. She picked her way across the room, finally sitting down lightly on Mikey’s untidy bed.

“Annie, we need to talk,” Mikey said, looking at her. She raised her blue eyes to meet his hazel ones. Her eyes were still blank, passive, like she wasn’t really seeing him.

“So you’ve said. About what?”

“You.”

They looked at each other for another couple of moments. When it was clear Anette had nothing to say, Mikey continued.

“You’re acting really weird, Annie, and I don’t like it. I understand you’re sad and trying to deal with what happened to your dad, but this is… ridiculous. And scary.”

Anette frowned slightly, and another emotions appeared on her face, even if it was just the ghost of an emotion; confusion.

“I’m acting weird?”

“Yes! You’re not…” Mikey ran his hand through his soft brown hair which he hadn’t bothered to gel today. He wasn’t sure how he should say this. “You’re devoid of emotion. I would expect you to be really upset over your dad, or excited that Gee’s home, but no, nothing.”

“I am sad about my dad and happy Gee’s home, Mikey.”

“Well, I can’t see it and that’s what bothers me. I don’t want you to be like this.”

Something was welling up inside of him. He wasn’t quite sure what emotion it was, but it was hot. It was beginning to boil inside of him, and he was trembling.

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not,” Mikey stated. His voice was doing funny things now. He took her hands and pulled her up to look at him. He grabbed her forearms lightly and he saw her wince just the slightest. He let go and asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Anette said, pulling her arms away, but Mikey caught them again, tighter this time. She winced more visibly. They stood there for a moment, but Anette wouldn’t meet his gaze.

“No,” Mikey eventually whispered. He was fearful and a little angry now to go along with his other unknown emotion. “Please tell me you’re not…” When she didn’t respond, he gently began pulling down her gloves. She didn’t protest. Mikey’s breath hitched a little as his knuckles brushes down her arms. “Dammit, Annie,” he growled, squeezing his eyes shut, trying to block out the image of her arms. But it was too late, the image was branded into his mind.

All along the soft skin of her wrists and forearms were thin, red cuts. Some were scabbed over, and some were fresher. The ones on her right arm were uniform and straight, but on her left arm, the cuts were more crooked and shaky.

“What the fuck, Annie?” Mikey asked angrily, clenching her gloves in his fists. He regretfully felt himself fighting back tears. “Why are you doing this?”

“I’m f—”

“ _Don’t_ tell me you’re fine. You need help, Annie!”

“I don’t need help.”

“YES YOU DO!”

Mikey’s eyes were still shut and his breathing was ragged. He could sense she had recoiled a little.

“You need help, Annie. There are better ways of dealing with your grief than hurting yourself.”

Now his face was hot. A few tears had worked their way out of his eyes and had fallen down his face.

“Mikey, please, don’t cry,” Anette said. He could hear guilt in her voice now. Her cool fingers touched his face. He shuddered and opened his eyes, releasing a few more tears.

“Well, I might as well, since you won’t,” he half joked. She brushed more tears away, and he asked, “Why?”

“I’m—I’m punishing myself,” she finally admitted, letting her hand fall back down to her side.

“…what?” Mikey asked, confused. He sniffed and wiped his face with the sleeve of his shirt.

“It’s my fault my dad is dead,” she said emptily, a single tear sliding down her pale cheek.

He shook his head. “No Annie, it wasn’t anyone’s fault, it was an accident.”

“No, Mikey. You don’t get it…”

She closed her eyes now, and took a slightly shuddering breath.

“That night… it was really cold. I didn’t want to walk home from the school that night, so I called and asked him for a ride home. The roads were so slick, and when he crossed the bridge, he just… just spun off a-and into the river…”

She stopped, shaking. Mikey carefully pulled her into a comforting hug. She set her head on his shoulder as her emotions and tears burst the dam.

“I miss him so much, Mikey!” she sobbed lightly, her tears beginning to dampen his shirt a little.

“Shh, Annie, it’s alright,” Mikey said softly, running his fingers through her wavy blonde hair.

“N—no it’s no—not,” she mumbled almost incomprehensibly into his shoulder.

“Annie, no one could have known it would happen. It was an accident, and you need to stop blaming yourself.”

“I—I don’t know how to do that,” she said, looking up at him with teary blue eyes. He met her gaze down through his glasses.

“Well, this is an improvement,” Mikey said with a small smile.

Her lips were pink and trembling, her cheeks shining with tears. Mikey’s breathing got irregular as he noticed how close they were.

“Do you mind if I do something?” he asked in a voice hardly above a whisper. Slowly, she shook her head and bit her lip a bit. Without another word, Mikey leaned in and pressed his lips to hers.

She tasted salty, but whether that was because of the soup they had eaten earlier or because she had been crying, he didn’t know. All he cared about was her hot mouth on his. His hand found the back of her neck and his fingers twisted into her hair.

Anette broke it off. They were both breathing a little heavier than normal.

“Annie, I care so much about you,” Mikey said. “I hate seeing you like this, but I want you… to know I’m here for you. Because I… I love you.”

Anette’s lips twitched into a small smile, and she laid her head back on his shoulder. Mikey’s arms wrapped securely around her waist and he held her close, his nose buried in her hair. She smelled very faintly like some kind of flower Mikey couldn’t think of the name of.

“Mikey?”

“Yes?”

They looked at each other again. For the most part, Anette had stopped crying now. Mikey thought about how quick she was to get over emotion, and wasn’t sure if this was good or not. But he hoped… he hoped that she would say the magic words back to him, say _I love you, too._

“Could you maybe play me something on your bass?”

His heart plunged, but he dared to think that maybe this was just what she always did. She never talked about the subject at hand when she could help it.

He looked over her head to the cherry red bass in the corner. He tinged pink. “I’m uh—not very good,” he muttered, trying to regain control of himself.

She smiled at him again. “I just want to hear you.”

“As you wish,” he sighed, and he let her go. He picked up the bass as she sat on his bed, her knees pulled up to her chest. Mikey sat down next to her and he held his bass, careful not to hit her with the tuning pegs. He started playing the bass line to some song probably only he knew, and she closed her eyes. As he played, her head gradually found it’s way to resting on his shoulder. He messed up a few notes every now and then, and he had to stop a time or two to start over, but she never stirred. Mikey just played and played, until her soft, even breathing told him she was asleep.

-

Anette slowly came out of her dream and became aware that she was lying on a bed. There was an arm around her waist, and when her eyes fluttered open, she found herself nose-to-nose with Mikey.

He was still asleep. He looked so different without glasses on, and his hair was messy. Gradually, he opened his eyes, nose twitching, and smiled at Anette.

“Good morning,” she greeted in her soft voice.

“Mornin’,” Mikey yawned, pulling her closer. She rested her head against his chest, closing her eyes again. “So… where do we stand?”

She looked back up. “What?” she asked.

“Well, uh, we sort of… kissed last night.”

“Oh, right.”

The silence was uncomfortable as Anette shyly didn’t make eye contact. Doubt was beginning to reform in Mikey’s heart.

“Mikey? Did you mean it?”

She made eye contact again. His heart lifted again, and he cursed this emotional rollercoaster.

“When you said you loved me… did you mean it, or were you just saying that to make me feel better?”

“I meant it,” he said, and without thinking pulled her into another soft kiss. And when they broke apart, Mikey sighed a bit happily. “But… are we dating? Friends with benefits… what?”

He wanted to know. He wanted to know so badly. So badly he thought he might burn.

Anette bit her lip slightly as she thought. Finally, she said, “Mikey, I… I think it’s best if we’re just friends until I can—”

“Figure things out?” he offered. His heart and fallen again, fallen fast and hard. But he kept his smile on his face.

“Yeah.”

“I understand.”

They laid there for a few more moments before Mikey said, “Let’s get breakfast?”

“I can eat at home, and I should go anyways, so my mom doesn’t get worried.”

“Alright, let me change shirts and I’ll take you home.”

Mikey rolled out of bed, shoved his glasses on his face, stripped off his shirt, and began looking for a clean one. Anette swung her legs over the side of the bed and fished her gloves off the floor. She pulled them on, and though they would still need to be hidden, the cuts didn’t look as bad today.

“Ready?” Mikey asked, pulling his black Metallica shirt the rest of the way down his body.

“Yeah,” Anette agreed, and she followed them carefully out of the room and to the kitchen.

Gerard was there, staring down his completed drawing, (which was rather brilliant looking) and eating scrambled eggs. “Morning kids, what did _you_ do all night?” he asked suggestively, smirked at them.

“Actually, nothing much at all,” Mikey replied coolly. “Where’s Mom?”

“She already left for work. I can make you eggs, if you’d like.”

“That’s fine. Can I borrow your car?”

Gerard raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“I’m gonna drive Annie home.”

“How about I just drive you two?” he asked, standing up.

“Sure, that works too,” Mikey agreed wearily.

“Come on, get your jackets.”

They obeyed as Gerard went to find his keys. Back to the front entry, back past the Christmas decorations, and back on with their shoes. Mikey pulled his jacket off the wall hook and looked at it for a moment before handing it to Anette.

“You wear it,” she said.

“Alright,” she said simply, and pulled it on. It was much too big for her, but the thick leather and padding was warm. “Thank you.”

They headed out the door to find Gerard waiting for them in his tiny car. Mikey pulled the passenger seat forward and he and Anette clambered in the back. Gerard set off once they were settled.

“Alright, let’s see if I can remember where your house is,” he joked as he made a turn and began across the bridge.

They all had different thoughts as they crossed. Gerard was focused on making sure they would get across safely. Anette looked down to the river bellow, thinking she would go buy some flowers and leave them on the rail later today. And Mikey’s hand tapped lightly on his leg, itching to reach over and take Anette’s hand in his. But he resisted.

“Alright, here we are,” said Gerard, pulling up in front of Anette’s white house. Mikey and Anette climbed back out, but Mikey poked his head back in.

“I’ll just walk her up to the door.”

“Suuuure,” Gerard teased, winking.

Mikey rolled his eyes. “Shut up, Gee,” he snapped, slamming the door shut. He took Anette’s elbow so she wouldn’t slip and lead her up to her frosty doorstep. “Well, here we are.”

“Yeah. Thank you, and tell Gee thanks, too,” Anette said as she began to shrug off the jacket.

“No,” Mikey protested, reaching out and pulling it back onto her shoulders. “Keep it. It’s warm.”

“Thank you,” Anette said with a smile. That dead look was almost gone from her eyes. He pulled her into a secure hug, and she hugged him back.

“Promise me you won’t hurt yourself anymore?”

“Promise.”

“And that you’ll come see me if you start feeling bad again?”

“I’ll come see you regardless. You are my best friend for a reason, after all,” she said with a slight laugh in her voice. Mikey smiled and pressed his lips to her cool cheek for just a moment.

“Bye Annie.”

“Bye Mikey.”

They let go of each other and parted ways. Mikey resisted the urge to look back over his shoulder at her, but he did hear her open the door and say, “Mom, I’m home!” before he was getting back in his brother’s car.

He shut the door and sighed in the passenger seat. He wasn’t quite sure what kind of emotion that sigh carried… most likely, disappointment.

“You love her, don’t you?” Gerard asked. His voice was soft, not joking or sarcastic or scolding. It was understanding.

And all Mikey could do was watch Anette’s door close and nod.


End file.
